Addison was not stupid. While forcing Joanna Sheppard to wear something tasteless and gaudy for five years had its appeal, whichever ring Addison chose would reflect more on her than on her future bride. Putting the atrocity back into the slot, she curbed her desire to be spiteful. Scanning over the selection again, she stopped when one caught her eye. Seemingly out of place in a row filled with rings of yellow gold, the Princess cut solitaire diamond perched atop a sturdy band of platinum was elegant and timeless. By the size of the stone, Addison was sure it was well over a carat, but the square-edged band balanced the setting perfectly. Slipping it on her pinkie, she studied it for a while before setting it on the desk and turning her attention to the tray filled with wedding bands.

***

After placing two cups of tea on the table, Joanna sunk into a chair. She had visited Fran’s doctor to get her physical first thing that morning, after which it was off to the bookstore and then to the churches where she had once spent her nights and weekends cleaning. Profusely apologizing to all for the lack of notice, before the clock struck noon, Joanna was unemployed for the first time since she was seventeen. Returning home with empty boxes from a nearby market, she and Fran spent the rest of the afternoon packing up the personal belongings of Joanna and her father. Framed photographs and keepsakes were carefully wrapped in towels before being packed away alongside a small collection of books Joanna had gathered over the years, and other than toiletries and clothing, everything else was to be left behind.

“You okay?” Fran asked, spooning some sugar into her cup.

“Yeah,” Joanna said, looking over at the stack of boxes and bin liners near the door. “Just tired and I have no idea why. Up until a few days ago, I worked three jobs without a problem, but now I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“I think that’s called stress.”

“You think I’m stressed?”

“I would be if I just quit my jobs, packed up my life, and was about to marry someone who positively loathes the idea.”

“There you go again, making this sound so attractive,” Joanna said with a snigger.

Fran smiled. “Sorry, but with all of that going on, you’ve got to feel a little on edge, but it’s totally understandable given the circumstances.”

“I suppose,” Joanna said with a sigh. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know the first thing about living the kind of life Miss Kane lives.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s…she’s rich.”

“I believe the term is filthy rich,” Fran said, grinning. “But as they say, she still puts her trousers on one leg at a time, just like you and I.”

“Except that hers are tailored, and mine are off the rack.”

“Not for long.”